Yeah; I know the site still looks like shit. I’ll get to it. Quit whining. All Goddamned day, I’ve been getting nothing but, “Why is the login link still there?” “Why haven’t you linked me yet?” “You said you’d let me go once the wire transfer was confirmed…”
Settle down! One thing at a time. This blogging software’s still new to me, so it’s gonna take a little time. Someone said that to make it work I had to do something with PHP, so I got distracted. Although at least now I know I can take on six cops if the circumstances are right.
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I don’t want to belabor my feelings about marriage (Mostly because I belabored the Christ out of them six or seven years ago), but suffice it to say I’m against it. While a buddy of mine was getting divorced a couple years back, he got into an impassioned battle with his ex over who got the stereo and who got the speakers, completely ignoring the fact that no matter who won, there’s no fucking music. I see no reason to get the courts involved in a perfectly good relationship, which my girl and I have, thanks.
I only bring it up because the other day, I was talking to my dad on the phone, and I mentioned that even though my girl and I are looking to maybe buy a place together, I didn’t want to get married. So he cranks up his patented “Dad Gravitas” tone – the one that sounds like he’s a lava dive away from telling me to turn to the Dark Side so we can rule as father and son – and he tells me: “Rob, you know your mother and I are very socially conservative. So we strongly disapprove of your choice. But together, we can destroy the Emperor, and bring order to…”
Whoops. Sorry. Anyway…
So my parents strongly disapprove of my choice not to get married, because they’re socially conservative. Social conservatives who want me to pool my resources and my personal means of production with another for the good of the collective entity.
Keep your filthy pinko communist propaganda to yourself, comrade. If you want to stand in line for toilet paper, that’s your lookout, but me? I’m gonna piss off of my balcony, just like Thomas Jefferson told me to in Federalist 18.
Feel free to put your faith in the good of the collective, Dad, but I’m more a freedom, my-home-is-my-castle, rule of law man, myself. Like the law that gave me legally binding power of attorney to make decisions regarding your freedom from the Home. Moo-hah-hah-ha.
P.S.: The nice girl I referenced in the old editorial that my parents wanted me to marry? She’s not the nice girl I’m with now. Net cost to me? Zero. Which once again proves that I am wise beyond my years, and that someone should be paying me more.
